Baba
by DragonUk
Summary: Dean tries to sleep. Little Sam has other ideas. Weechester! fic.


**So this is just a little something I wrote while trying to procrastinate. I hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it, all comments will be much loved. **

**Any mistakes are my own, sometimes being ones own beta doesnt really work. **

**I don't own Supernatural. Darn. **

*******

**Baba****  
**

It's three in the morning. Beyond the rattling windows lies a deeply slumbering world, the wind for once isn't howling, there's no rain against the panes. The only noise is the low buzzing from the neon lights of the motel, the cheap orange glow filters through the browning nets that serve as a means of privacy. Within the room is a different story.

Dean tries to ignore it, he really does. John is fast asleep, the bottle of Daniels long since finished, his breath smells acidic, but it doesn't really bother Dean. Dad is warm, safe, comforting. It doesn't matter that John is mostly asleep these days, his worries have taken over. They're short on cash and full of grief. Dean doesn't quite understand it all yet, but he knows that his mother is no longer around and his dad is hurting. And so Dean has to hurt too. But tonight all Dean wants is to sleep.

The wailing makes him want to scream himself; it's been going on for over an hour. Dean thought if he left it then it would go away, that it would run of steam and _go to sleep. _But it didn't, and Dean was tired and irritated and hoping his dad would wake up and sort it all out.

But Dad wasn't waking up, and Sammy wouldn't stop crying.

The five year old gave a defeated sob, and uncurled himself from his father's protective arms to land unsteadily at the side of the bed to where Sam slept. The motel hadn't provided a cot, and so Sam was tucked into the bottom drawer with some of Dad's clothes and towels to keep him warm. The baby's face was beet red, tears- _real tears-_ had made salty track lines down his face and soaked his makeshift bedding.

"Shut up Sam!" Dean hissed, giving into a few exhausted tears of his own. Sammy quietened when the bedside lamp was turned on, pumping his fat fists into the air and rubbing his watery eyes waiting for Dean's next move. Whatever move he was waiting for, it didn't come quick enough and yet again he gathered enough air into his lungs to let loose an ear shattering scream.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Screamed Dean, pounding the floor in anger. Why wouldn't Sam let him sleep? Why did he insist on keeping him awake? Why why why? Frustrated, Dean took his anger out on his little brother, picking him up not so gently and shaking him. A startled Sam instantly quietened, shocked at his harsh handling.

John slept on, the on goings of the motel room unnoticed.

Feeling more than a little guilty, Dean burst into tears again, pulling his ten month old brother into a hug and sobbing into the dirty, puke stained baby-grow Dad had put him in the night before.

A smell worse than baby puke flooded his nostrils, and Dean almost dropped Sammy in disgust. Sammy cooed, suckling on the collar of Dean's pyjama top as his chubby fingers scratched and searched for purchase on his brother's neck.

"This why you ain't sleepin' Sam?" Dean asked. With difficulty, he pushed himself to his feet –fully intent on waking his dad up to take care of Sam's business. There was no way he was going to do _that. _

"Dad." He whined. "Dad! Sammy needs his bum changed. Dad. Sammy's done a poo. Wake up, Dad. Dad. Sammy needs changed."

John snorted, ignoring the persistent shaking of his shoulder. "Daad." Dean tried again, tempted to sit his stinking brother on John's face to wake him up. Sammy had other ideas, and began to hiccup in preparation to cry again.

"No Sam. No more crying. You'll never be a big boy if you cry all the time. I'll..." Sam blinked, adoring, at his older brother, the distress plain on his tiny face. ".. change you. Then you'll be clean. Then you'll sleep. I've got school tomorrow Sammy, you can't keep me awake all the time."

Dean carried his inconsiderate brother towards the table, there was a small mat placed out on one end for such occasions as these, and lay him down.

With fumbling fingers, Dean undid the clasps that held together the legs of Sam's baby-grow. The stench made him want to vomit. How could anyone lie in their own dirt like that? Guilt cascaded over him again, he was fully aware that he was prepared to doom his little brother to do just that – lie in his own waste – just so that he could sleep.

"Urg Sam – quit kickin', makes it smell worse." Sam was delighted his legs were free, and took every opportunity to try and kick Dean between the eyes, finding the results hilarious. Dean couldn't help but grin, even with the smell, whenever Sam managed to land a small foot on his face.

Dean had watched his dad change Sam hundreds of times, he'd even helped his mother – the thought of her caused a funny feeling in his stomach he couldn't really identify – on occasion get Sam ready for his bed or bath. So really, Dean had the whole physics behind changing diapers down to a tee. However, watching someone else do it, and doing it himself was completely different, and as he peeled away the tapes holding the load together he wondered if he'd hurt his brother, or if there was something he was meant to do that he was missing. Sam wasn't a help really, he was happy with the attention and occupied himself with babbling away with the few sounds he could co-ordinate himself with.

"Baba-ba." Sam offered, noticing Dean was hesitating at the hurdle that was revealing what was hidden away within the pampers.

"Yeah Sammy. You're the baba." Dean sighed, realised that he was only prolonging the inevitable and that really, it was unfair to subject Sam to whatever it was that had crawled up and died in him.

And so Dean Winchester, aged a mighty five years and one month, changed his first nappy.

The end result was nothing short of spectacular. Once Dean had held his breath long enough to wipe away the offending sludge with the cucumber scented wipes and disposed of the evidence, it was all a matter of figuring out how the diaper worked. And it was easy, technically.

Sam giggled happily once the adventure was over, offering words of praise such as "goo" and "boo" that Dean was convinced meant "Well done, Big Brother. Can I have some food now?"

And so Dean obliged, snuggling Sam back into the bottom draw and cleverly propping a bottle of milk up with one of Dad's shirts so that Sam could feed without anyone having to hold the bottle.

But of course, now Dean had to watch him just in case Sammy choked.

***

John Winchester woke the next morning with the beeping of his alarm clock. It took him a moment to realise there was something missing, and then it took him a further moment to realise that Dean wasn't in bed, and that Sam hadn't woke him up yet.

Panicked, John flew from the bed, his voice hoarse from the previous night's drinking – "Dean!" he screamed, eyes blood shot, ears ringing, heart at his throat. Had someone taken his baby boy from his arms _while he slept? _

"Naah-ug!"

John froze; his foot has struck something warm.

"Cooo?" Came a sleepy voice from the drawer.

John sighed in relief, settling himself down on the bed as his eldest son pushed himself to his knees and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning Dad." Dean yawned.

"Awooahh." Greeted Sam.

The story came out over breakfast, and to say John felt a little shame faced by the end of it was an understatement. But the guilt he felt was over-ridden by the sheer pride he felt in his eldest as the five year old proudly took over Sammy's morning feed as if he'd been doing it his whole life. Sam was ecstatic that his brother was showering him with so much attention, and was whole-heartedly enthused by the new game "Where's the choo-choo Sam-Sam? Open up for the choo-choo!"

"Baba-ba-ba!" Squealed Sam as he threw the bowl of porridge across the table and onto John's lap, spraying Dean in the face with oat-laced spittle in the process.

With a scowl, Dean wiped his spoiled brow with the sleeve of his jumper.

"Yeah Sammy, you're the baba."

***

**So there it is. It didn't go exactly as planned, but i'm happy with the result and would love to hear any comments about it. **


End file.
